A Partner for Takato: A Digital Dilemma
by The Great Red Dragon
Summary: A 20-year-old Takato operates a bakery in the Digital World, where four hopeful suitors bid for his partnership...and his heart. The story takes place in an alternate universe wherein Takato never became a Tamer. Written for Readasaur.


A Partner for Takato: A Digital Dilemma

* * *

 _Part I: The Customers_

* * *

Takato Matsuki, 20, got up at five o'clock every morning, even on his days off. Having bathed the night before, he merely washed at the sink before brushing his teeth and getting dressed. He headed up the stairs from his basement apartment into the bakery and cafe on the primary floor, turning on lights along the way. The ovens - freshly cleaned from the previous afternoon - were turned on and left to heat as Takato, still yawning as he tied on his apron, exited his place of work to receive his deliverymon.

An Elecmon, reaching the end of his workday as the town's deliverer, pulled a covered cart by motorbicycle up to the human's dome-shaped abode on the outer ring of Recovery Town – one of the newer settlements of File Island. Their exchange was always the same:

"Good morning, Elecmon! …Oh, don't worry – I can get it."

"Aw, quit trying to impress me, kid. Lemme help you with those."

Together, they carried sacks of flower, bags of yeast, and mailbags of sugar into the café, around the still-empty glass counter, and into the toasty kitchen.

"Mmm!" Elecmon would say, sniffing at the spices in the air. "This place already smells great!"

"Wanna stay for breakfast?" Takato would always ask.

"Naw, thanks, kid" Elecmon would say, already turning to leave. "Tamer's waking up in a few hours, and bedtime's quality time for us. Seeya tomorrow!"

Elecmon would leave, and Takato would spend most of the remaining time 'til opening having breakfast and baking the day's wares. He did so in solitude, for Takato Matsuki was one of the few humans living in the Digital World who had no Digimon partner of his own. He had come to the Digital World without the guidance of a Digimon companion, and even though he was enthusiastically received by the World's inhabitants and became a successful entrepreneur within a matter of weeks, he still lived and worked alone.

In times past, this had bothered Takato. When he had been a teenager living in Shinjuku, watching his classmates acquire partners while his own hopes for one were left unfulfilled, it really _bothered_ him. However, now that he neared his half-year anniversary of his business, he felt at greater ease with his situation. For one thing, he came into contact with more Digimon these days than any other human he knew, thanks to the popularity of his café. For another, he was gratified and excited by the knowledge that there was a certain group of Digimon doing its best to ensure that he would not be without a partner for very long…

When his café opened at eight o'clock, Takato spent the next five hours enthusiastically serving his diverse and colorful customers. He silently awaited his lunch hour all the while, along with the quartet of special Digimon who would ignore the CLOSED sign on his front door so as to greet him in intimate privacy.

* * *

Chairs were still askew from their tables and crumbs were all over the floor as Takato – having drawn the shades of the entryway windows – sat down at the table closest to the counter. His espresso and a cherry Danish sat before him on the tabletop, along with a paper bag stuffed with cream puffs. "Hot Buns" was scribbled across the bag in blue marker. Tucking in to his meal, Takato glanced at the goggles-shaped twin clocks hanging in the corner and was able to count down the seconds until the bell of the front door jingled to announce his first special customer. He had to admit, he had a fondness for rituals.

As the bell sounded, a fat Gazimon pushed open the door. At the sight of Takato, he popped the sunglasses over his eyes onto his forehead, and the human could not help but smile back at his seductive grin.

"Hey there, butterscotch" the Gazimon greeted in a high yet smoldering voice.

"Good afternoon, butterball" Takato returned with a friendly wink. "Okay, let me just say _wow_ – you're looking good today."

Smirking with the utmost of self-assurance, the Gazimon strutted towards Takato, a notable sway in his hips showing off the olive-green shorts he wore. These shorts – which featured suspenders crisscrossing the Digimon's furry back – had the effect of showing off his belly, which bulged in a shapely arc like a bowling ball. Gazimon were usually sleek and slender, but this one's wide hips, puffy upper arms, and mildly pudgy chest made his belly seem natural.

"Thought you might like 'em" he said, stopping in front of Takato and performing a theatrical turn, his hips still wiggling. "I thought to myself 'Now what would that sweet cupcake over at the bakery like to see on me,' and there was only one choice. Classy, ain't they?"

Takato giggled and rested his forehead against a hand, shielding his eyes as the Digimon shamelessly framed his pillowy rear with his paws. The Gazimon had great skill at making him blush, but he did not mind it too much. The rabbit monster was among the most frequent of his customers, and their relationship dated back to when the tubby creature was the one blushing as he asked for large orders of sweet goods. Takato thought that the heavyset Gazimon looked nicer and more approachable than his brethren, and had gone on a limb to compliment the Digimon's body. The effect this had on the Gazimon's manner was resounding: he became the picture of confidence, addressed the human suavely, and – Takato was sure of it – appeared to be trying to gain weight for the baker's pleasure. It did not take long for Takato to assign a nickname to him.

"Aw, Hot Buns – you got dressed up just for me?" Takato asked, showing his flattery.

"And it's not the only thing I'd do for the sweetest little dumpling I know" Hot Buns added, displaying a sharp-toothed grin as he hopped into the chair opposite of Takato. "Come on, cutie – what do you want? Be demanding."

"Hmm…" said Takato, pretending to mull over the question while taking a thoughtful bite of his Danish. "I _thiiink_ …I want some money for those cream puffs."

The Gazimon smirked and stuck out his tongue – a childlike gesture that relieved Takato. He was very fond of Hot Buns, but worried about being completely overwhelmed by his come-ons. He was not sure whether Hot Buns was even aware of how penetrating of an effect he had on Takato, and for the time being, the baker was determined not to let on about it. He was uncertain about whether he could handle an even greater onslaught of flirty charm if Hot Buns increased his intensity

"You're being one coy muffin" the Gazimon accused, smiling as he produced a purple memory stick. "As a matter of fact, I think you've gotten as shy as you've gotten fluffy (by the way, keep it up: I love a man with a lot of real estate). But sweet cheeks, you don't have to be! I'm a gentlemon, and I'd do anything I could to make you feel like a million – even keep this big mouth of mine shut if you wanted me to!"

"Oh, I know…" said Takato, trailing off as he produced an electronic wallet into which to stick the memory device and deduct his payment.

He handed the stick back to Hot Buns, who cocked an eyebrow at the baker.

"Gonna leave me hanging?" he cooed. "Don't worry about it, you soft li'l marshmallow – I can be patient. For a while."

Takato giggled and put his face in his hand again as Hot Buns grasped the bulging bag of pastries with both arms and hopped back out of the chair. He balanced it on his belly, and Takato rose to open up the door for him.

"Just you wait, you tall slice of ganache" Hot Buns said, showing Takato one more winning smile before nodding his sunglasses back over his eyes. "Tomorrow, I'll wear my speedo. You won't be able to say no."

Takato feared the same, but bid his customer a pleasant farewell as the Gazimon walked off, his pouty rear swaying with each step. Takato remained at the door, holding it open and awaiting the second handful, due to arrive at any moment…

* * *

…and when he did, it was in a motor-driven sedan, piloted by a hat-wearing, harassed-looking Veedramon. The Veedramon parked, dismounted the seat, and opened the door for his charge to exit.

"Hey there, Buddy!" Takato greeted the Demidevimon that flapped out and into his cafe.

The diminutive Virus-type was all huff as he perched on the head of the glass counter. He wore impressive-looking sandals and had bright, sharp eyes that nevertheless were afraid to linger upon Takato's countenance for too long. The most he would do was throw prolonged glances at the baker, who calmly followed him to the counter. Outside, the relieved Veedramon removed his top hat and gulped something from a purple bottle.

"Why do you call me that?" the Demidevimon asked snippily. "People are going to think that's my name."

"Well, I thought you are my buddy" replied Takato, picking up his nearly-finished Danish and nibbling at it as he strode around to the back of the counter. "You come here every day, buy a ton of my most expensive and flakiest, and always offer me a job. I just thought that meant you liked me. It certainly makes me like you."

Buddy cast his gaze downwards and grunted, clearly unprepared for such a delicate compliment. Nevertheless, Takato was certain that the Digimon appreciated being told nice things about himself, and while he did not lay on the honey as thickly as Hot Buns had a tendency to, he never let Buddy leave the bakery without at least a reason to smile. He had a feeling that the Demidevimon did not find much cause to smile at home, despite living in a luxurious mansion on a hill that anybody in town could see from the street.

"So, will you do it?" Buddy demanded, his tone too vulnerable to be truly authoritarian. "I mean, I _have_ been asking for you months. I wouldn't ask anyone else so often…"

"Will I do what?" Takato asked, leaning into the counter's interior to arrange a paper platter of all the Demidevimon's favorite pastries.

"You know what I mean!" Buddy insisted, his purple claws clinking against the glass in agitation. "I want you to be my private baker, Takato Matsuki. You'd be paid a lot. And you can even live in my home."

His last statement had slipped out in an undertone, but Takato knew to gauge it and figured that this was what Buddy wanted most of all out of this proposed arrangement. Buddy could not help but be transparent in this regard: months ago, before the Demidevimon had mellowed out a little, Takato had known that Buddy liked him despite his imperialist tone of voice. Besides, Buddy tipped with extreme generosity; it was clear that he was trying to buy friendship.

"But I've got my business" Takato pointed out as he wrapped the parcel in paper and attached a plastic carrying strip.

"You can keep the business!" Buddy insisted, spreading his glossy wings. "I'll move the entire thing up to the hill! And you won't have to get up anymore – you'll have a staff, and you'll be the manager! Hey, you can even be CEO! All you have to do is say you'll be there every morning to have breakfast with me…"

Luxury was not uninteresting to Takato, but being a businessman had made him proud of his own accomplishments. He knew that the offer was merely a carrot wielded by Buddy to get Takato into his life, and the human was flattered, but he felt no more prepared to offer an outright answer to the Demidevimon than to the Gazimon. He tried to phase his response carefully…

"That's so nice of you to offer" he conceded. "But to be honest, I'm pretty proud of this place. I built it from the ground up, like my parents did their bakery. I might be interested in expanding or moving, sometime, but for now, I want to keep it going by myself. You know what I mean?"

Buddy's face darkened with frustration, and he made a noise of impatience.

"This place is nothing special" he grumbled.

The Demidevimon realized a second later that he had said something hurtful, and he looked up in fear at Takato. The baker's face was neither stricken nor outraged, but it was clear that he had been pierced by the statement.

"No-! I didn't mean that!" Buddy rushed to say. "I just meant… You… _Urrrgh!_ "

With a frustrated groan, the Demidevimon threw an excess of redeemable credit cards onto the counter, flapped into the air, and grabbed the parcel in his talons before flustering out the front door, which was already being held open by the Veedramon.

" _I'm sorry!_ " he said abruptly before diving into his sedan.

Takato watched the transport putter away, and once it was out of view from his glass door, he released a sigh of exasperation. Usually, Buddy's visits were more fun than that.

He did not the insult to heart – he knew that the hasty apology had been sincere than the barb, and it soothed the topical sting – but it did touch upon his insecurities. He had come here to meet Digimon, and in the process had built something incredibly fulfilling to him, but the idea that it actually amounted to little was extremely disheartening. He knew that Digimon looked at him as potential Tamer material – his availability in that regard had helped influence his moving here, after all – but he did not feel nearly as enthusiastic about partnership if his life's work was downplayed.

Given that Buddy's visit was a lot shorter than the norm, Takato used the available few minutes to compose himself for his next customer. He would be happy to see him: after the excitement his last two visitors had put him through, he was ready for a change of pace.

* * *

When a tiny Impmon with finger holes in his gloves and wearing a makeshift cardboard hat poked his head around the open doorway, he found the owner seated and awaiting him. Takato had recovered his inviting smile, and he sat at the same table as before. The second chair stood ready, and a juicy slice of chocolate pie sat on the tabletop, but all of the other chairs had been pushed back from the remaining tables in a disorganized line. Takato raised his cup of nearly-cold espresso towards his visitor.

"Hi, Killer!" he greeted warmly. "Come on in! I have a slice of your favorite left over."

Killer held himself by the elbows as he entered the bakery, moving as silently and as cautiously as a nervous cat. One glance around the room seemed to convince him of its safety, but he looked over his shoulder no less than three times on his trip from the doorway to the table. He regarded the chairs curiously but did not inquire about them. When he looked up at Takato with enormous eyes brimming with guilt and trepidation, it took all of the Tamer's self-control to not scoop him up for a big hug, which he had a feeling would not go over well.

"I'm sorry" Killer all but whispered. "I know you're on your break…"

"Oh, I'm done eating" declared Takato beatifically. "I don't even consider this my break – it's just the time of day that I shoo everyone else out of here so you and I can spend some time together."

Killer turned his face down, but not fast enough; Takato knew that he was hiding a ghost of a smile. A little more at ease, the Impmon clambered into the chair opposite of his host. Though his eyes widened at the size of the slice of pie that Takato had served him with, his expression promptly fell again moments later, as though he had remembered an unpleasant caveat.

"I still haven't paid you back for all of the stuff you let me eat" he murmured sadly. "My tab's taller than me by now…"

"Oh, that's okay!" Takato assured him. "You start paying me back today…"

Killer's eyes widened again with surprise and alarm.

"…By helping me clean up for the afternoon" Takato finished in a soothing tone. "I need to sweep under the tables to get the crumbs together. You can push the chairs back when I'm done."

"That's not much…" Killer remarked.

"You can help me again tomorrow, or whenever you feel up to it" Takato assured Killer, and pushed a fork towards him.

Takato felt something change in the ambience even before Killer looked at him across the table. He had always been willing and eager to offer help and favors to the shy little Impmon, who lived between towns and had always looked so hungry when he peered into the bakery from across the street, clearly cowed by the crowd that usually filled the place. Even though he had come around to accepting Takato's goodwill, Killer had always seemed conflicted in taking something without returning anything. Now, the prospect of being able to offer repayment – whatever his little body was capable of – seemed to act as an adrenaline shot to his self-esteem.

For the first time ever, Killer allowed Takato to see his shy little smile.

"Thank you…" he said, and began to eat.

Takato had to take care not to stare too much at Killer, whose expression of instant, gut-felt pleasure was what every baker, chef, and cuisiner sought to elicit in their audience. He prepared the chocolate-loving little monster a cup of cocoa to also enjoy before they began work.

The labor itself was only a five-minute affair. Takato would usually have finished even faster, but again, he could not help but watch Killer out of the corner of his eye. Killer's extremely dutiful and intricate placing of the chairs made him almost feel bad that they would be scraping along the floor again before long. He rewarded Killer for picking up a piece of crust that he had missed by packing up the rest of the pie for him. When he handed it to him, he feared for a moment that the Impmon would begin to cry.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Killer whimpered. "Even the guys who run the shelter aren't this nice."

"Oh… Well, I'm a nice guy!" Takato replied. "Besides, you're not such an awful guy, yourself. You deserve it."

Killer's pale face reddened at the compliment, even as he fought tears by hiding his eyes behind the parcel. He moved to exit, and Takato held open the door for him. He would have wanted nothing more than to keep Killer in his home and let him have nothing but delicious food and a roof over his head, but knew from experience that the Impmon would never accept _that_ much charity. No matter what their station, all Digimon had an inherent amount of pride. Nevertheless, Killer was not so proud as to forego whispering one more thing to Takato as he shuffled away.

"I wish I could be more like you…"

* * *

Touched by the Impmon's parting statement, Takato watched him for as long as he could before wandering back into his kitchen to take the fresh loaves of bread out of the oven. He was still expecting one more individual to intrude upon his lunch break, and when it came to this customer, Takato knew enough to have plenty of loaves prepared. He was just setting them upon the cooling rack when the tinkle of the door's bell informed him of his final special visitor of the day.

"Halloo, citizen! The Holy Angel Guard bids you good day and wishes… Halloo? Is anybody here?"

A smile as bright as the sun lit the baker's round face and he threw down his oven mitts and strode back behind the counter. Standing in the doorway, the walking suit of armor with the dinosaur face caught sight of him and beamed back. The Guilmon entered, letting the door fall closed behind him.

"Greetings, citizen! I'd like to purchase some bread before I resume my trials. You can be assured that- _Oof!_ "

The Guilmon jerked backward as the door fell closed on his unarmored tail, stopping him like a dog on a leash. The movement caused his visor to clank shut over his face, and his gauntlets hindered him as he tried to pull his tail free. Takato was already giggling as he approached.

"Oh, Sir Clumsy" he chuckled, opening the door to release the red tail. "At least I know the island is safe with you around."

He opened the Guilmon's visor for him, and was met by the same shining smile from before. Sir Clumsy showed no hint of embarrassment, only gratitude at Takato's aid.

"I'm glad you say so" he said. "Templar Dukemon says I need a lot more training before I'm even prepared to protect my king in chess… But don't think badly of him; he says it with a lot of love."

Takato's arm was across Sir Clumsy's armored back as he led him to the front of the café. With his innocent nature and complete lack of ego, the Guilmon had endeared himself to the baker from their first meeting, when he had apologized thoroughly for intruding upon Takato during his break but that this was the only time he had off from training and the delicious smells wafting from the bakery were simply too tempting.

Takato's affection had been instantaneous. He was not sure whether he actually liked Sir Clumsy more than Hot Buns, Buddy, and Killer, but he certainly smiled and laughed more easily around him.

"Will it be the same thing as always?" he asked with a grin. "All the bread I've got?"

"Oh no, Mr. Matsuki – I could never take all your wares!" replied the apprentice knight, missing the joke entirely and making Takato chuckle again.

"And I keep telling you, silly – it's Takato, not Mr. Matsuki" the baker said, crossing behind the counter to prepare yet another parcel.

"Many apologies!" Sir Clumsy said. "I have great respect for my human neighbors, but your style of names confounds me. Sometimes, I've almost called you 'Takatomon.'"

"I wouldn't mind that" replied Takato, a little blush blooming in his cheeks as he filled one of his larger bags with four of the fresh loaves.

The ever-hungry Sir Clumsy usually ordered only three loaves of bread, but Takato often stuffed an extra one inside out of sheer affection towards the cute Guilmon. Sir Clumsy took the bag without looking inside and paid Takato. Upon being given back his pay stick, the Digimon placed the bag under one gauntlet-clad arm, but he made no motion to leave. Instead, he held his warm gaze over Takato, who grinned uncertainly and made a half-motion to turn away.

"Do I have flour on my face or something?" he asked bashfully.

"No, no, it's nothing like that" Sir Clumsy said. "The strangest sensation just came over me. I believe I have just gained a new appreciation of my training. Knowing that I can protect people like you makes it feel all the more worthwhile."

Unprepared for the sentiment and sincerity of the Guilmon's statement, Takato met the gaze with a gape. He composed himself quickly enough, but there was no possibility of repealing his blush. He actually felt his eyes beginning to water with emotion, and wiped them dry as he walked around the counter and embraced Sir Clumsy, disregarding his armor.

"You must be taking lessons from Hot Buns" he murmured close to the Digimon's exposed bat-ear.

"Hot buns?" repeated Sir Clumsy, as he carefully squeezed his friend back. "Oh my. You're a wonderful person, Takato, but I still don't understand your meaning at times."

"Get out of here before I go to pieces" Takato said with a little laugh, relinquishing the hug. "It's time for me to open up again soon, so…"

"Ah, of course!" said Sir Clumsy, composing himself smartly. "I will go, then. I wouldn't dream of keeping you from your business."

"Just from my lunch, right?" asked Takato, and waved his hand airily to assuage the suddenly look of guilt on his special customer's handsome face. "You keep coming. I'll see you again soon."

Eased, Sir Clumsy clanked his heels together and actually saluted before turning and marching away, leaving Takato feeling fortified to meet the remaining four hours of his workday. Indeed, a visit from Sir Clumsy was every bit as satiating as a good meal and the effect lasted longer.

* * *

 _Interlude: The D-Camber_

* * *

The CLOSED sign returned to the café's entrance door just after five o'clock in the afternoon, but between cleaning the café and the kitchens and making preparations for the next day, it was another couple of hours before the diligent baker could leave his workplace and head into his apartment. Recording his income in his computer was an easy process due to the generous tax exemptions afforded to human immigrants, and the process was quicker than the shower that followed it.

After bathing, Takato inspected his damp figure in the steamed mirror of his bathroom. Hot Buns' compliment was still fresh in his mind, and he examined his form critically. Eating nothing but his own cooking had indeed made him delicately plump, but the weight fit well on his wide hips; it looked good where it was. Not displeased that the Gazimon had taken notice, the young Mr. Matsuki dressed himself in shorts and a sleeveless blue sweatshirt as he headed outdoors through the back exit, to meet the setting sun and pursue his favorite mode of relaxation. He took a paintbrush and a half-empty can of paint with him.

The mural which Takato had begun three months ago spanned more than half of the wall of his bakery. It had begun as an illustration of his appreciation of the Digital World, featuring various portions of its geography and establishments, but the work had transformed into a representation of his hope for full integration between the Digital World and the world he had come from. In his fresco, humans and Digimon interacted before illustrations of Hospitown, Tokyo, Net Surf Village, Paris, the Village of Beginnings, New York, Oasis City, Rio de Janeiro, and the Forest of the Gods. Thus far, it had been well-received by his clientele.

He was in the process of painting partner pairs in Beijing and on the beaches of Byte Island, but on this given evening, he found himself unable to get started. He initially attributed it to being more tired than he had realized, but comprehended soon enough that he was simply preoccupied. He set aside his brush and sat against the yet unpainted portion of the wall, facing away from Recovery Village and watching the sun go down over the ocean. At this time of day, he felt certain that he would remain undisturbed: all other businesses around the settlement were already closed as well, and Recovery Village was not among the party towns of File Island, so it was unlikely to find anyone on the street.

Takato fished into his pocket and pulled out a blunt, gray-colored electronic device that looked like a cross between a digital watch and a Tamagotchi, with a comically large screen and so many ports on it as to be absurd. Once upon a time, it had been his paper ticket to the Digital World, but at some point had transformed into…this. He would often muse affectionately on its clunky shape and virtual worthlessness, but it was precious to him because he knew that it could transform yet again. He was certain it would do so as soon as he chose a Digimon partner; then, it would be a genuine D-Ark. Until that day, he would refer to it as his D-Camber.

His day's experiences with his four special customers had been very emotional, and this brought his odd dilemma to the forefront of his cognizance. He had spent seven years hoping for a Digimon partner of his own, and had any one Digimon thrown itself at him before now, he would have accepted him (or her) in a heartbeat. Having four Digimon seeking his partnership at the same time, however, created a quandary wherein Takato could not imagine choosing one over the other, despite his eagerness to finally see the D-Camber transform.

Hot Buns was honest and adoring, but Takato wondered whether he would ever get used to his flirty forthrightness.

Buddy was snooty and unskilled with feelings, but he was offering a life of luxury in exchange for only a little bit of regular affection.

Killer's predicament cried for salvation, but Takato wondered whether sympathy alone was enough to commit to a partnership.

And Sir Clumsy, who made Takato feel so well at ease, had a standing commitment with the Holy Angel Guard. Would partnership even be a realistic possibility for him?

The make matters more significant, it felt as though the four of them had collectively begun to apply pressure in their favor. Buddy was becoming irritable and offering him the world, Killer was near tears, Sir Clumsy had given Takato one of the nicest compliments he had ever received, and Hot Buns was breaking out a speedo to tempt him. It was a lot for Takato to consider and a lot to take.

He was beginning to wonder whether he would even be capable of making a single choice. However, he considered the alternative and promptly discarded it as soon as the memory of Elecmon riding home to his Tamer reentered his mind; the intimacy this idea managed to convey was too alluring to deny himself. Takato wanted that, too.

He sighed and watched the sun withdraw its brightness from his feet, finally draw back its rays entirely so that darkness set in. He sat for a while still, contemplating his predicament, before getting up and heading back indoors to prepare his dinner.

Before going to bed that night (with the D-Camber lying next to him on his nightstand), he made the decision to address his potential partners directly about the matter, the following day. He was not sure yet of what exactly to say to each of them, but he supposed that the least he could ask of any longtime companion was the opportunity for discourse. The occasion, at least, would be right: tomorrow was Valentine's Day.

* * *

 _Part II: The Fight_

* * *

Takato had gone to some length to make his next lunch break something out of the ordinary. He had risen a half-hour earlier than usual that morning and worked extra hard to prepare the day's wares. The baker's haste did not go unnoticed by Elecmon, who joked about the novelty of Takato's new speed-baking exercise regime before having a special heart-covered bag of Nussecken pressed on him and being shooed out of the café. Takato had no time to spare, even as he wolfed down an extra-large breakfast to ensure that he would not need to waste time eating at noon. Once this was all taken care of, the baker spent over an hour focusing on nothing but special treats for his special customers: Hot Buns' beloved cream puffs were deep-fried, Buddy's pastries were baked so flaky that they had to be handled with extra care lest they fall apart, Killer was to receive the fudgiest fudge cake to ever be served on File Island, and Sir Clumsy's loaves of bread were filled with cups of honey and raisins and sprinkled with cinnamon.

Given the sheer amount of effort he had made, it was not only with great surprise but also with a little irritation that Takato spent his entire lunch hour sitting alone in the café, without so much as a glimpse of his favorite customers.

Takato did not know what to make of this unexpected deviation to the months-long ritual. With the beginnings of anxiety tingling in his belly, he alternatively paced his café, threw endless glances at his clock-goggles, and stood at the doorway - looking up and down the street for any sign of the Gazimon, Demidevimon, Impmon, and Guilmon who had preoccupied him for so long. No one came, and all other Digimon took heed of the CLOSED sign.

As his lunch break neared its end, a dejected Takato tied his apron back on and sighed as he turned the sign back around to OPEN. As he returned to the counter, he subconsciously closed his hand around the D-Camber in his pocket for comfort. The rational part of his brain assured him that he was overreacting – that for his four favorite customers to miss one unscheduled meeting within a quarter-year was no reason to become morbid – but he could not keep his imagination from visiting depressing places. He was reminded that none of the Digimon had any obligation towards him, which in turn reminded him that he, indeed, still had no partner to call his own.

The one day that he had gone out of his way to facilitate the possibility of partnership with these four was the same day that they all decided not to visit him – what were the odds of that?

* * *

For the first time since his residence, Takato turned the sign on his door around before official closing time arrived. He had only five more minutes to go, but the café was empty and he was ready for the day to be over. Still feeling as unmotivated as he had several hours ago, he took off his apron and let it trail on the floor as he slouched into the kitchen. He turned off the ovens and gazed around at the messy place, becoming aware of the extent of his apathy when he considered simply leaving everything as it was. Tomorrow was his day off, after all: the smeared batter in the mixing bowls would be hard as ceramic and the ovens would be all the harder to clean as well, but he had all day to do it and nothing else planned. He certainly did not expect to spend time with anyone.

Takato had begun to look forward to a long, hot shower when the sound of nearby cracking glass grabbed at his attention. Intrinsically, he knew at once that something had struck the windows adjoining the front door, and he hurried out to investigate.

The first thing he noticed was the damaged window, then the figures moving in an agitated fashion beyond the blinds. He could hear raised tones that made it clear what was happening: some Digimon were having a fight outside of his café and had cracked the window in the process.

Though common sense dictated that it was a bad idea to approach battling Digimon, Takato paid it no heed and threw open the door, making the bell jingle and the sign swing. What he saw seemed almost surreal for its unlikelihood: Sir Clumsy desperately attempting to separate a fiercely scrapping Killer and Buddy, while Hot Buns vainly attempted to dance out of the way of the fracas. The Impmon and the Demidevimon haphazardly threw fireballs and syringes at each other, both of which bounced harmlessly off of the Guilmon's armor and whose mark the Gazimon was desperately avoiding.

"Hey, you guys!" Takato cried out, and made to rush into the street.

He did not get far, as his foot kicked against some obstruction on the ground. He looked down, and saw a pile of small packages lying right in front of the entryway, some of which had now been displaced by his foot. Upon a second glance, they were more than just packages: judging by the festive wrapping, these were presents.

Takato looked up, his mouth open to shout again, but saw that he had no need to. All four Digimon had frozen, their wide eyes turned to him. Sir Clumsy was trying to control Buddy, who had stopped just as he was about to throw a Pico Dart at Killer, who had fallen onto his back – onto Hot Buns – and was in the motion of directing a Night of Fire at the Demidevimon. Had he not the impression that he had walked in on a life-and-death situation, Takato would have laughed.

"What… _What?_ " he demanded.

Buddy was the first to recover from his catatonia. Flapping free of Sir Clumsy's hands, he fluttered over and landed at Takato's feet, where he cast an indignant wing over the rest of the party.

"You ought to call the Guard" he hissed. "I had Veedramon drop me off because I had something private to discuss with you. But when I show up, so do these yahoos, and that little shrimp just attacked me!"

"The Guard _is_ here" Sir Clumsy declared, nearly unbalance as he pulled a sullen-faced Killer to his feet. "…But I couldn't explain what went on. I too arrived for a private audience, and much to my surprise, I wasn't alone. Yonder Virus said something, and this gentlemon here grew agitated and…"

"Busted him into the window" groaned Hot Buns from the ground. "Nothing gentlemonly about that. Someone help me up, please!"

Takato stared at the quartet as Sir Clumsy fell over himself to aid Hot Buns, more surprised now by their convergence than by their earlier absence. Whatever idea they had all had, they had it at the same time.

"…Is anybody hurt?" he asked after a moment's pause.

Sir Clumsy, Killer, and Buddy shook their heads with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Hot Buns groaned, his paws over his ears.

"My head…"

Without thinking about it, Takato directed all of the Digimon into his café. They entered, picking up the presents from the ground as they went. He encouraged each of them to sit at separate tables, and made sure that both Sir Clumsy and Hot Buns were between the incensed Buddy and the sullen Killer. He procured a frozen package of croissants from his icebox and carefully balanced it between the Gazimon's ears. Hot Buns smiled, and Takato twisted the front of his work shirt when he realized for the first time that the Digimon was wearing a rather tight set of swimming shorts.

"Thanks puddin'" Hot Buns said, sweetly.

"What the heck happened out there?" Takato asked, sitting down beside him. "Why was everyone fighting?"

"Not everyone, dumpling" Hot Buns replied with a touch of indignity. "All I know is I had planned a surprise evening for you, but I show up and these other guys are hanging around your place. Before I can ask what's up, his highness the flying loudmouth says something about how the rest of us should pack it in because we didn't stand a chance against everything he was gonna do and get for you. I open my mouth to tell him where to get off, but the little firebrand back there through a punch, first. Next thing I know, I'm dodging for my life. The little guy fell on me real good, honeybunch; I think I've been concussed."

"I think you're okay" Takato declared, after peering into the Gazimon's eyes. "Let me know if you start feeling sick or dizzy. But for now…"

He stood up and faced the entire group, together in his café for the first time.

"Did all of you come here tonight to see me?" he asked them all.

A collective nod came as a reply.

"Why?" Takato asked.

After a moment of embarrassed silence, Sir Clumsy sighed and laid his armored hand on the tabletop.

"Someone correct me if I'm wrong…" he began tentatively. "…but I believe that everyone here showed up tonight to bid for your heart, Takato."

"You make it sound so poetic" Buddy sniffed irritably. "I was just gonna ask him to be my partner for the rest of my life and live with me in my mansion so I can make him happy."

"It _is_ Valentine's Day" Hot Buns pointed out. "Seemed like the perfect time for a date…"

Killer folded his arms.

"I regret not telling you that I was coming in advance" Sir Clumsy added, frowning sadly at Takato. "I spent my break today preparing your gift; that's why I didn't come earlier today like I usually do."

"Yeah, what he said" Buddy and Hot Buns said at the same time.

Killer merely tucked his chin in and turned his head away.

Dumbstruck, Takato stood before his audience in disbelief. A warm, lemony wave of gratitude washed over his sour memories of the earlier day. Had the fight not occurred, he might have been completely overcome with emotion as he reflected on the certainty that all four Digimon liked him. They liked him enough to bring him presents and seek a longer audience. They all wanted to be his partner. In many ways, it was the best thing that could have happened.

However, he realized with some despair that he was still in the same dilemma as before. With his choice in partners becoming all the more impossible, he was almost glad to have a reason to divert his attention, even if the reason was the fact that Killer had begun to shake in his chair.

"Hey… Hey?" Takato said, stepping closer to the trembling Impmon. "What's the matter?"

Takato's first thought was that Killer must have been hurt in the fight after all. Biting his lip in apprehension, Takato placed his hands on the little creature's shoulders, but instead of fidgeting or pulling away, Impmon did something that pierced Takato even more deeply: he uttered a deep, watery sob.

"Killer!" Takao exclaimed in distress. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"

He had seen the Impmon very sad before, and had even seen him shed a couple of melancholy tears, but Takato had never seen Killer cry outright. As all of the Digimon looked around from their chairs at Takato and Killer, the Impmon clapped his gloved hands to his eyes and wailed as Takato placed his arms around him.

"Honey… Honey, what is it? Tell me what's wrong" the baker pleaded.

" _It's…n-not…f-f-fair_ " Killer choked, in between bursts of crying. " _I n-never even…even h-had a chance!_ "

As Killer cried uncontrollably, Sir Clumsy rose from his chair, ignorant of what to do but wanting every bit as much as Takato to aid the distressed Impmon. Takato noticed, and spoke to him over Killer's sobs.

"Would you go to the kitchen for me?" he bade. "There's milk in the fridge and cocoa powder in on the shelf nearby. Would you mix a mug of that and throw it into the microwave for a minute?"

"At once!" the knight-in-training said and strode off – accidentally opening the door to Takato's apartment before realizing his mistake and veering into the bakery instead.

The kitchen survived Sir Clumsy's inevitable knocking about and the hot chocolate had the intended effect on Killer, whose eyes still watered but whose owner nevertheless managed to contain his weeping. Upon returning, Sir Clumsy had sat down at the same table as Takato and he, and Hot Buns was quick to follow. Even Buddy drew closer as Killer collected himself to speak.

"I'm sorry I hit you" the Impmon murmured to the Demidevimon, his head hanging. "And I'm sorry I'm being such a pain. I…just…don't know what to do."

"About what?" Takato probed, petting his back reassuringly.

A look of renewed pain came across Killer's face, and Takato feared that he was about to start crying again, but the Impmon simply took a deep breath and angled his eyes at the baker without raising his head.

"About losing you" he finally replied. "When you… When you choose one of these guys to be your partner."

Surprised glances went all around at Killer's statement. Even Buddy's look of tentative irritation morphed into one of minor shock and incomprehension.

"…I don't think I understand" Takato said after a moment. "Killer, I want a partner, but I haven't decided yet who, so…what makes you think I'm not going to choose you?"

The Impmon sniffed.

"That's nice of you to say, Takato, 'cause you're so nice…but I'm not going to be your partner" he said thickly, and gestured to the other Digimon. "Look at these guys. One of them's gonna be a knight, one of them's the richest guy on the island, and one of them's a sex machine. I'm just a poor boy off the street. When I came here and saw them all, I knew that I never even had a chance, and I'm not going to pretend."

As an awkwardly flattered silence permeated the café and Hot Buns hid his blush behind his arm, Killer had another sip of cocoa before continuing.

"But I still don't want to lose you. If you choose any of them, you'll be too busy for me. Or you'll move away and I'll never see you again. I just got so frustrated when he started talking about how he was a shoe-in to be chosen by you, and…and… I'll work off a new window, I promise."

"Oh, Killer" said Takato, his tone mingling sympathy with firmness. "You think I was happy to see you every day for the last forever because I didn't like you? You were never out of the running."

As Impmon raised his head to Takato, eyes and mouth wide, the baker look 'round at all of the Digimon.

"You guys…" he addressed collectively. "I meant to tell you all earlier today: I _do_ want one of you to be my partner. When no one showed up at lunch, I had my doubts about whether you felt the same way, but now I know you do. All of you are such wonderful guys that I could imagine being with any one of you. But…I don't know how I'm supposed to choose. If only one of you wanted it, it'd be easier, but even if it were only two of you, it'd already be an impossible choice. I've wanted to be a Tamer ever since I was a kid, and I always imagined that there'd be one Digimon in all the world for me; I never thought I'd be so lucky that there'd be four for me. I've dragged this out because I didn't know how to choose…and I still don't. I'm sorry, guys, but I just don't know…"

For the third time in several minutes, Takato's café was rendered silent by a sudden revelation. Takato looked into the faces of his four favorite customers and saw the battle of sentiments going on between their eyes: elation at realizing that their adoration was reciprocated fought downheartedness at finding out that they would not be chosen outright, while severely mixed feelings about their competition waged a skirmish around the battle lines.

"Whoa" Hot Buns eventually said, breaking the silence.

"I had no idea" Sir Clumsy professed.

"I hope you still like my present…" Killer murmured.

Buddy, instead of saying anything, hopped off of his seat. He fluttered to the ground before Takato and peered up at him with his sharp eyes that. For the first time, he held a gaze longer than a few seconds. His face was set. As a worst-case scenario, Takato expected to be thanked for wasting the Demidevimon's time, or otherwise have a decision demanded of him. What Buddy actually said was something Takato would not have guessed in a decade.

"I come from a different place than all of you, and I might not have the same appreciation for little things" Buddy said, his high voice clear for all to hear. "But I might not be all that different from you, Takato Matsuki. I also wanted a partner since I was a kid. And I might be accused of wanting everything, but something that I genuinely want more than anything is for you to be happy, even if it means you take ten years to make your decision…and even if it isn't me. Sure, I'll be jealous, but so long as I can still come here to see you, I'll be okay. Promise."

Takato could not have been more moved if he had been picked up and carried. With slightly-parted lips, he fell to one knee and gently touched his hands to the Virus-type's body.

"Oh, Buddy…" he said in an infinitely grateful tone.

"I second Citizen Buddy's sentiment" said Sir Clumsy, rising out of his chair. "At the core of my adoration is seeing you happy, Takato. It's my one and only desire. I want you to show your heart the same indulgence that I do."

"Yeahhh… Me, too" added Hot Buns, leaving the frozen bag on the table as he slid out of his chair as well. "I'll be honest, cutie: I'd make one great partner. But if you see something in these characters, then they'd probably be great, too. I mean, look at this guy – he's definitely got the adorable thing down."

Hot Buns referred to Killer, at whose chair he stopped and held up a paw to help the surprised Impmon down. They approached the rest of the group together, crowding around the kneeling Takato, who was having increasingly insurmountable difficulties in containing his happiness. He literally could not believe how well everything was coming together after such a disastrous start to the evening. He realized that before now, he had yet to glimpse the rim of the Digimons' character. Their understanding was more than he could have expected, as was the extent of their love and respect for him. The baker was beyond words, expressing himself on by the loving smile shining through his happy tears.

Moving through the crowd of his fellows, Killer managed his way to Takato. With a tender expression, he gently placed his gloved hands on the human's collar and stood on his toes to kiss away one of the tears sliding down the boy's cheek.

"I'm okay, now" Killer whispered. "And I want you to be, too, so…may I give you my present?"

"Yes" gulped Takato, his heart beating resoundingly for the smallest of his admirers. "Oh, I have a present for you, too. I have ones for all of you…"

He was thinking of the special treats he had prepared, now in danger of staleness. However, his guests all rushed to bring their own gifts over, and the first to be pressed into Takato's hands was Killer's. Takato wiped away the tears and unwrapped the brown paper to reveal a small cardboard box the size of a watch case. He lifted the lid, and found a shiny red memory stick lying inside.

"Aww, Killer…" said Takato, trying to sound flattered but unable to keep an awkward tone out of his voice. "You're giving me…your wallet?"

Sir Clumsy uttered a warm chuckle and placed a hand on Takato's shoulder.

"It's your turn to be confused by _our_ ways, Takato" he said. "Unless I'm mistaken Citizen Killer has offered you the most intimate gift there is – a compressed byte of his data. You're literally holding a piece of him."

As Takato's mouth opened in shock and Killer's expression melted into palpable relief at the warm reception, Sir Clumsy assumed a puzzled look and scratched his scalp beneath his helmet. Buddy and Hot Buns looked equally confounded.

"Well, this proves it" the Guilmon declared. "He must care for you as deeply as I do, because we had the same gift idea…"

To Takato's heightening amazement, Sir Clumsy unwrapped his present for the baker, revealing a clear plastic case containing a white memory stick. Following his lead, Buddy and Hot Buns did the same – revealing a lacquered wooden case and a velvet ring box that respectively contained a yellow and blue memory stick. The three of them pressed these upon Takato, who clutched the devices as though they were as delicate as crystal.

"Oh, you guys… Oh, you guys…" was all he could say.

"Mine even has a game on it" Hot Buns declared proudly. "You should plug that into a computer, some time."

"Oh!" exclaimed the human, transferring all of the sticks to one hand. "That reminds me! Maybe… Just maybe…"

He produced the D-Camber from his pocket and held it before him. The Digimon reacted with astonishment; it was as though the sight of the device entranced them. Takato took no more than a moment to relish their reaction before he acted upon impulse and touched the first memory stick – Killer's – to the southernmost port of his oddly-shaped little machine. Connecting the D-Camber to his computer had produced no effect in the past, but perhaps this would be different…

A moment later, the baker's face lit with mysterious glee. The Digimon collectively gasped at what he did next.

"Hey, what're you doing now?" Buddy asked, watching as Takato began attaching all four sticks to his device.

The baker was not to be stopped. An excited grin spread across his face as he saw what his comrades did not: the D-Camber's large screen, which had remained unlit for as long as he had owned the device, was brightening. Not only that, but something had blinked across the display as he inserted Killer's stick: "25%." Driven by a wild idea and a longshot hope for the impossible, he had added all of the sticks until no port was left empty, and watched in intense delight as the readout advanced from "25%" to "50%" and "75%." After inserting Sir Clumsy's stick while the Guilmon held his gauntlets over his muzzle in excitement, the screen briefly blinked "100%" before switching to the words "COMPLETE – WELCOME TAMER."

At once, the D-Camber began to glow brighter than neon and illuminated the entire café - causing Takato, Killer, Hot Buns, and Buddy to shield their eyes while Sir Clumsy clamped down his visor.

"You're crazy, muffin!" Hot Buns cried.

"And wonderful!" Killer squealed.

"Oh man, it's gonna blow!" Buddy cried, and wrapped his wings about his body.

But nothing blew. Moments later, when Buddy brought away his wings from his eyes, he found Takato smiling benevolently down at what he held him his hand. The human noticed the Demidevimon looking at him again, and reached out an arm to wrap around his body and draw him close. He did this with each of the Digimon.

"Look… Look…" he whispered to them.

Takato's partners did just that, their four heads inclining over the extra-large D-Four held in their Tamer's hand. Highlighted in magenta, the octangular device was wider than Takato's palm and beset with four buttons instead of customary two. Four digital versions of themselves cheered back at them from the sizable screen, somehow managing to convey with only a few pixels the euphoria they experienced as they realized what kind of a miracle had just occurred.

"I say…" murmured Sir Clumsy. " _No_ _one_ at the Guard's going to believe me when I tell them about this."

* * *

 _Epilogue: One Day Later_

* * *

Though Elecmon was eager to finish his route and get back home to his sleeping Tamer, he felt more astonished than irritated when he pulled up to the bakery on the first morning of the new week and found no handsome baker to meet him. Parking his vehicle, he knocked on the front door, to no response. The sight of the cracked window moved him to circumnavigate the building to the backdoor of Takato's apartment; he wanted to make sure that the baker was okay.

"Hey, kid!" he called, knocking as he did. "Everything okay in there? I got a lot of flour for y- Oh! Hey…?"

The door opened, but it was not Takato who stood before him in the next moment. A fat Gazimon covered a yawn as he looked wordlessly back at Elecmon, soon to be joined by a dozy-looking Guilmon wearing a pair of underwear.

"Good morning, citizen" the latter greeted. "Mr. Matsuki's having a lie-in for the moment, so we're helping him out this morning."

"Oh. Okay" said Elecmon, looking between the two of them and into the apartment; in the darkness, Takato's still-crowded bed was hidden. "This is the first time he's ever slept in. Did he have a rough day or something?"

"And a pretty busy night" replied the Gazimon with a suggestive guffaw to the deliverymon. "See, we'll all be pretty busy throughout the week, but yesterday's a day off for all of us, and that baker boy's gonna need to learn to pace himself lest he needs to concede that he's bitten off more than he can chew. Not that that'd stop the smooches, though."

"Aren't humans just wonderful things?" the Guilmon asked dreamily.

Comprehending everything, the Elecmon nodded and showed a little smile.

"And just when you think you've explored everything you can together, just wait 'til you Digivolve" he said with a wink.

* * *

The End


End file.
